Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica

Against Evil

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He’s rotten apples, continuously flashed through my mind. I recall each and every anecdote ever told about him. I found him despicable, the type of man that parents warn innocent mademoiselles about. He is plain lewd. I’ve just heard too many things about him to even warrant his presence at church on Sundays. Why does he come? Could he actually believe that sins throughout the week can be pardoned by repenting on Sundays? Even death won’t dissolve the eternal damnation he’s built for himself.

There he is again, I look at him, walking in to the house of God, bowing down, drawing a cross across his chest, kissing his hand. It’s repulsive, really. How can anyone have the face to come here with such history of transgression! That must be his trap to the less informed. His well fitted attire, a hat under his arm as if he truly respected this holy church. I watch each move he makes at church, to whom he speaks, and how he does it. I can see right through his lovers, all of them, and those who wish to be his. It’s no illusion, he draws out the least desirable traits from women. I’ve heard them speak of him, and under the house of God. That’s how he’s turned them. Lucifer, I commonly call him! That’s who he is, the personification of lewdness.

Throughout my constant investigations of him, I got the urge to use the ladies room. I got up mid service and calmly rushed out, smiling at friends as I moved along the pew. I stayed in the sanitary room for sometime, playing with my hair, ensuring my make up was proper; I looked like the lady I was. As I was coming out of the room, while looking down at the floor before exiting the restroom door, I bumped into him. I blushed beyond red, I could do little, all I managed to do was say “Hi”. I should have treated him like the person he is. Yet, I was unable. I rushed back into service breathing heavily.

I sat down, restless until able to gather my thoughts, my breath. Once collected, I looked over my left shoulder and saw him there. He was sitting a few rows back behind me. He had moved; Lord, he is watching me! I could feel his stare looking at my hair, undressing me. That man almost made me raise up and chant a Holy Mary; ask the Lord for strength!

During one of the hymns, I looked back at him, and again, perhaps trice or more. I then realized that he was pointing with his eyes for me to leave the Sanctuary. He was pointing to the adjacent room where we had just encountered. With the strength of the Lord behind me, I stood up, looked at him, quickly away from him, and proceeded to the next room. I was about to draw the power not given to Gabriel to let Lucifer know that his plays, here and now, were to end.

I waited for him for quite a bit; I had suspected he wouldn’t show. As I was about to return to the Sanctuary. He comes out through the large double doors leading in and out from the Sanctuary. I could see in his demeanor that evil resided in his thoughts. I had no fear. I was ready to do what many others hadn’t the courage, the bravery to accomplish.

He came up to me – I had full intentions on granting him the time to babble about himself – and introduced himself. Eloquent the gerbil, part of his ploy! He proceeded to inform me that he has been noticing for sometime my constant stares toward his way. Oh, I was prepping to let him have it; it? Whatever it was that was made from good, form the holy place in which we stood. That is what I was going to give him, a demonstration of how good succeeds.

Before I had a chance to speak, he put his index finger upon my lips. Asking me to hush. I panicked, opened my eyes wide and frowned ready to unleash my wrath. But, I didn’t have the time to respond, he lifted my long dress, and slide his hand down my undergarments. The heavens must have spoken because he confronted little struggle. I was saturated by his advance. A woman such as I had never been treated this way. He kept his index on my lips, whispering to my ear that he knew the reason I kept an eye on him. I didn’t know whether to believe him, or believe my mind telling me he was a bad man. I somehow lost this battle, I offered no resistance to his advances. A mind of its own had entered my body, saturating all that came in its paths. He looked into my eyes, his fingers strolled in places there shouldn’t have been, but were, oh they were just where I wanted them. Blame me Lord, but he needn’t any help, I pushed my pelvis forward every time he wanted to withdraw. I had even attempted to swallow his index – there really wasn’t a need to have it upon my lips without being tasted with my lips.

He kept his hand down where today I might consider the residence of evil, and his finger in my mouth. Watching me slide my hips as if on a swing, trace his index with my tongue, looking him straight in the eye. What I was to give him wasn’t what I expected to have. I increased the strength, and speed in which I moved my hips, feeling like something was about to give. I had forgotten that I was in the house of God, oh, the payments that I must make to repent form this one; they didn’t deter me. I was to do what I was placed here to do: give myself to him.

He quickly withdrew both from within me, and my lips, Pushed me against the wall, and lifted my skirt. There was no haste in him to push my feet apart, and pull down as much he could my undergarment. I was ashamed, but didn’t want it to stop. My saturation spoke of desire, I felt as if the lights flickered when he pushed in me. It was the Lord informing me that I was feeling the right thing, even if doing the wrong thing. He pushed, and pushed covering my mouth with his hands because I am a rowdy woman. He even withstood my bites to his hand, drawing blood from it a few times. All I could feel was his masculinity pushing aside with little effort my femininity, beating it in a battle for holy glory. It was easy for him to get me there, my eyes rolled back and my knees went limp. He felt my weight come down oh him, God knows how he held me up. But he withdrew from within me, pulled my undergarment back in place, and lowered my skirt. He left before I did, I stayed behind, feeling his residual effects saturate further my joy.

I hadn’t a clue as to how to return to my seat. I could smell that I had just been demonstrated how to be seduced. Would everyone else know? What should I do? I’ll walk back in.

Author: jibarican

https://crimsoncrossing.wordpress.com

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